Truth
by Croutonic Sarcasm
Summary: A boggart is let loose in the World Conference meeting! Facing fears is harder than the nations realize, and winning against them almost impossible, especially for England. T for Turkey's mouth and kissing.


**Truth**

The entire conference room stared at the small, brightly colored lunchbox rattling on the table, Alfred staring most intently of all. "So that's a real magic thing."

"Yes, Alfred," Arthur answered exasperated, though patient.

"And it takes the shape of peoples' fears."

"Yes."

Alfred leaned an elbow on the table, staring at the Superman themed lunchbox. "Why'd you have to use my old lunchbox, Arty? It's gonna get all gross..." he complained.

Arthur shook his head. Typical America, complaining about that instead of the act that he had a magical creature in the most terrible spot it could be. He had never faced a boggart and didn't particularly want to. If anything, he was afraid of how the others might react.

Alfred looked disappointed. He couldn't not believe in it, after all, there was the Salem Insitute and he'd visited often enough to believe. He just didn't believe in fairies and those silly things that England always swears float around him. He turned sapphire eyes to see England muttering to the air, then shook his head. Arthur was so insane.

"I wanna take it on," Alfred announced, standing. Ludwig looked unsurprised, Gilbert quiet for once behind his younger brother and staring at the box apprehensively. Francis was merely sipping wine, Arthur frustrated. Yao was calm and patient, Ivan watching with a soft smile. Kiku followed Yao's example, silent and watchful, the Asians spread between the duo, though Hong Kong was diplomatically careful to be as close to Yao as he was to Arthur. There were some others, Antonio, Romano, Feliciano, Mathias (Denmark), along with the rest of the Nordics, yet there was silence but for Alfred and Arthur.

Arthur leaned his head on the desk, the cool wood soothing to his throbbing headache. "You haven't a wand, Alfred. It will merely become your fear."

Alfred looked thoughtful for a moment at that. He wasn't stupid, and this was serious, but nonetheless, he looked put out. "I'm a hero, I'll beat it up and kill it!"

Arthur looked scandalized. "There's no reason to kill it! It's not its fault it's in here!"

Alfred tilted his head, giving in to that logic. "I guess..."

Francis set down his wineglass, the empty glass shining in the light and boucing just a little from the protestations of the cooped up boggart. "I say that we each get a chance, oui? It's only fair that we each try. Whoever defeats it, wins. If you don't, at least you knwo what you fear. Perhaps..." his voice went soft and he tilted his head with a soft smile, looking loving instead of his usual perverted expression, "we could all benefit from seeing our fears. They may be relieved if the source can reassure us. True, non?"

Arthur frowned. The logic seemed sound, but some fears would tear people apart. He couldn't let Alfred see his- it would shread the American, he was sure. Then again, couldn't they all? "Let me go first."

The whole room's gaze fell on Arthur, Alfred's surprised, the rest patient. "What?"

"I want to attempt it first. Norway and I are most versed in magical creatures. If I cannot, I say that we allowed him. He or I will likely be the best to defeat it." He nodded firmly, giving Alfred a soft glare of determination from under those thick brows. Alfred recoginized the expression- Arthur wasn't going to give in.

He raised his hands with a shrug in a giving up motion. "Alright, go ahead."

Arthur had the rest of the room stand and go to the opposite side of the room, setting the rattling box on the edge of the table. "If I cannot, somebody step up and try. If they cannot, another steps up. We continue this until it is defeated or we are out of people. In the latter, we lock it up again and take it to the Headmaster of Hogwarts." He knew it wouldn't go that far, but it was best to have a backup plan. The assembled group gave a wear approval, then went silent, eyes on Arthur.

He crouched down, hands on the box. It went silent as soon as Arthur's hand touched the clasp, and with just a touch of hesitation, he flicked it open and leapt back, drawing his star-tipped wand as he did so.

Smoke rose from the box, shifting and vaporous until it recognized that Arthur was the closest. In a almost gut-wrenching to stare at transformation, it became Alfred- three, in fact. One small, white gown wearing baby, a Revolutionary War era Alfred, and World War II Alfred. Arthur twitched in surprise, leaning back just a little.

"What the..." Alfred stared, then was silenced by Francis' hand over his lips. Alfred looked to Francis, who merely shook his head, making a shushing motion. He rturned his gaze to the boggart and Arthur.

"Awty, Awty!" The child Alfred cried out, hands out to Arthur lovingly. The other two Americas waited, watching as Arthur twitched, slowly bending down to come close to the baby.

The real Alfred jerked, going to attack it but was held back again by Francis. Francis' eyes were sympathetic, but he whispered in Alfred's ear gently, "Non, mon cher. He must face it."

Arthur ended up holding out his arms to the baby, looking as though it pained him, emotion clear on his face- pain, hope, betrayal, the list was too long. But most of all, it was agony. "L-little Alfred..."

The baby went forward for a few totering steps, then turned as though seeing something in the distance; the boggart had created a time period Francis as well, just behind Arthur. "Fwancis!" The child ran past and into Francis' arms, snugglnig contentedly. Boggart-Francis smirked cruelly to the crouching Arthur, seeing pain in those emerald eyes. "He doesn't want you, mon ami. Don't try. Ha!" They vanished into smoke.

Arthur choked back a sob, spinning slowly as he rose to face the Revolution era Alfred, tears falling, knowing what was going to happen. Revolution-Alfred brought the musket to his shoulder, aiming down the sight toward's Arthur's heart. Arthur shook- this was not what he expected. "Wh-what?"

Revolution-Alfred smiled cruelly. "I hope you die, Arthur. I don't need you. I never did. I had Papa Francis and Papi Antonio." He smirked, the real Alfred looking horrified over the imposter's shoulder, but Arthur couldn't handle it, dropping to his knees as the musket discharged, a bullet whizzing by and piercing his arm before vanishing as well, leaving only the WWII Alfred.

Arthur clutched at his arm, a few nations running forward, but Arthur jumped to his feeet, glaring even as tears poured down his face. "Don't come any nearer, you bloody berks, I'll curse you if you try!" He pointed his wand towards Alfred and the worried Hong Kong, Francis not moving because he knew what would happen. Arthur's children moved back again, wary as Arthur turned to face the final incarnation of his fear, even as he dropped to his knees again to stare up at the larger man.

The WWII Alfred stared down to Arthur with a contemptuous expression. "Still having that Blitzkrieg, eh?"

Ludwig twitched compulsively at the reminder, Gilbert murmuring something soothing in his ear even as the blond looked highly uncomfortable.

"He's going to kill you," Boggart-Alfred went on, then crouched down to meet his eyes ."And you know what?" He grinned widely, happily, that smile that he gave to the soldiers, the smile to uplift spirits, the true smile when he was happy. "I'm going to laugh."

Arthur screamed and fell backwards, holding his head and sobbing uncontrollably even as the boggart laughed brightly, standing up again and pulling out a gun from his pocket, aiming it at Arthur.

"NO!" The real Alfred leapt forward and snatched up Arthur, tossing him away from the boggart even as the bullet pierced the ground just centimeters from his own nose. There was silence before Alfred realized that the boggart had changed, had become his own fear.

Alfred stared up at the specter of the Confederacy, the grey, washed out uniform decorated with metals, the shining saber hanging at his side bright and new. The gloves were clean, and the face was Alfred's, but for small differences. His skin was darker, more tanned and there was a hint of facial hair, blond locks falling just like Alfred's without Nantucket, and on his nose there should be Texas, but it wasn't there. Alfred's lips parted and he stared with pale fear in his eyes, meeting the Confederacy's identical blue eyes.

"J-Johnathon?" He asked weakly.

The Southern half of America looked almost offended at the familar way his name fell from Alfred's lips, reaching down to pick Texasup form Alfred's stunned face. "E'scuz' meh, Alfre', Ai thin' yeh wan' ter sai theh Confe'drete Sta'es o' 'Merica."

Alfred looked confused. "But you lost the war."

Johnathon shook his head. "Nah, nah, nah. Yeh go' i' wron'. Ai wo'. Ai wo' an' Ai too' o'er yer lan'." He smirked and his eyes shone. "Yeh don' exis' no mo'."

Alfred's breath caught and he whimpered. "That can't happen. It didn't happen."

"Ai sti' exis', Alfre'. Ai'm in yer ba'emen'. Awl Ai go'a dew i' sli' yer throa' in yer slee'," he replied coldly, though that sharp smile was still there.

"You wouldn't do that! You're a gentleman!" Alfred answered, scooting back on his ass ash e sat up, fingers clenching and tearing up some of the carpet.

"Ai dew wha' Ai nee' ter dew."

Alfred shook his head furiously, then faster, scooting away quickly. "No! You can't! I'm a hero, I-I-"

"Yer u'ele' i' wha' ye a'e," Johnathon anwered, following with each step, the saber slowly pulled from the sheath.

"No! I-I -I can't do this!" Alfred cried flying backwards and into the mob of people, embraced by a slightly calmed Arthur, clinging. Arthur held tight at the touch, never wanting to let go and murmuring calming words in Alfred's ears at the taller shook and cried. Gilbert jumped out of the blob, standing before the boggart with a glare.

"Go on, I dare ya," he taunted the Confederate boggart. The creature shifted rapidly, too quick to see its original form, into Gilbert himself with a young Ludwig at his side. He stared, then burst out laughing. "That all ya got, huh? Pathetic! Kesesesese~!"

Swiftly, the young lederhosen wearing Ludwig pulled out Boggart-Gilbert's knife from his belt. Boggart Gilbert turned curiously, crouching. "What are you doing, eh, Kleiner Wünderbar?"

Gilbert was still chuckling, wiping away tears of amusement. At least, he laughed until little Ludwig stabbed Gilbert through the heart with the knife, childish giggles falling from the child's lips as Boggart-Gilbert dropped, clutching at his heart as his form slowly went smoky.

Real Gilbert's eyes went wide, face frozen mid-laugh, almost a grimace of pain in his features.

"I'll replace you with something better, Alter Bruder!" Little Ludwig giggled, kicking at Boggart-Gilbert's body as it whisked away into smoke, fading, no longer a nation. "I don't need you, just like Alfred! He's my best friend, we'll be better than you forever and ever and I'l lburn your things and nobody will eeeeeever remember you!"

Real Gilbert stared sightlessly, backtracking. "N-Nein, I'll always be remembered..." He tripped over himself falling into Ludwig's arms, the taller German staring at him with concern.

"Bruder, I would never replace you," he said seriously. "I will always remember you and keep your things til I die myself." Gilbert clung wordlessly, fighting against himself to stop from crying, managing quite well as he clung to Ludwig. Ludwig simply held him close, having no desire to see a boggart's form for the blond. He was sure he knew it already. He didn't want to resurrect his past.

Feliciano bounded forward towards the boggart. "For Doitsu!" he cried, standing before the creature. It transformed again, this time wavering between an image of mutilated pasta and a dead Ludwig, settling on Ludwig.

Feliciano giggled and the boggart twitched. "Doitsu would never die~! He's too strong. Ridikulus!" He pointed with a simple wand, the creature shifting to a dead Romano. "Fratello wouldn't die either!" It shifted once more to reveal a mutilated Holy Roman Empire and Feliciano's giggles ended with a choke.

"H-Holy Rome..." He murmured, tears breaking from his eyes to fall down his tan features. Romano walked forward and jerked on Feliciano's arm, pulling him away only to be assaulted with screaming sobs of "Holy Rome!"

The boggart flickered through forms, the many people about beginning to confuse it as they were no longer so perfectly lined against the wall; Nazi Germany with a whip, blue eyes piercing as he rose his hand to flick the whip- Anastacia Romonav in her ballgown, smiling softly before raising a gun to her own temple- Yao with his children, watching them run away towards others- Yong Soo fighting his twin, losing ground slowly- an angry Ivan, knife in hand as he turned towards Toris, growling in Russian- too fast to be seen, it continued on and on, repeating sometimes before Heracles ambled forward, a kitty on his head and a small fig in his hand that he had been snacking on.

The boggart changed for to the Ottoman Empire, larger than he had been in real life and more terrifying, but the sleepy Greek merely pointed with the fig. "Ridikulus..." he yawned, the Ottoman Empire suddenly dressed like a harem woman, thin gauzy material just barely covering his intimate areas. The room at large tittered with giggles and even Heracles gave a soft smile. "You're so silly, Sadiq..."

Sadiq ran forward, mask coming loose before he shoved Heracles aside. "I can do it too!" He held on his mask before the boggart shifted into Kiku, making the real Japanese man bring a finger to his lip in surprise.

"Ah, Sadiq-san, I am sorry," the fake Kiku bowed deeply, "But we can no longer be friends. I am dating Heracles and I would not wish to upset him..."

"FUCKING RIDIKULUS!" Sadiq screamed, pointing a small scimitar at the fake Kiku, the boggart shifting into Heracles rejecting some kitties' cries for affection. Sadiq burst out laughing at the comical sight, the majority of the room laughing more strongly, Heracles joining in as well.

Kiku pushed forward, touching Sadiq's shoulder gently. "Please, allow me to attempt, if it would not offend you..." Sadiq grinned and shifted his mask, stepping back. The boggart became himself, and he tilted his head.

"Nani ka?" He murmured to himself curiously. A boggart Alfred appeared by the fake Kiku, slinging an arm around the Japanese man's shoulders.

"Look, Kiku, you're a great guy and all, but we can't date, I mean," Boggart Alfred grinned. "You're Japanese."

Kiku gasped and backtracked quickly, breathing just deeper than normal and covering his eyes. "Iie, iie, iie..."

Mathias stepped forward, reaching to keep his small had from falling from his blond spike, grinning. "Come on, British thingy, try the King of Northern Europe on for size!"

The boggart was himself, and before anything else could form, Mathias ran his eyes up and down the fake Mathias. "Daaaamn, looking sexy there."

The fake Mathias rose an eyebrow. "Too bad Norway doesn't agree, huh? He never will."

The true Mathias chuckled. "Naaaah, he's just taking time. He's my best friend. He jsut doesn't know it."

The boggart smirked. "He's with Iceland. He'll never want you- he hates you. He avoids you. He wants you dead."

Mathias looked a bit put out by that. "Well, you're a fuckwad, aren't you?" He reached in his pocket, spinning a wand with an axe on the end, pointing it at the boggart. "Ridikulus!"

The boggart exploded into smoke, reforming into Iceland dressed like Denmark, looking highly confused while Norway was nearby. "No, not like that, he smirks more!"

Mathias burst out laughing alng with the full rest of the room (excepting Iceland and Norway), and the boggart shook painfully. He looked around for somebody else to take it down, thta being the extent of the Dane's knowledge before Arthur stepped forward again, determination and anger on his face.

The trio of Americas appeared again, repeating the scene with more detail- blood on Revolutionary Alfred's outfit, WWII Alfred mocking more, baby America giggling with Francis. He steeled himself. "You know what, bloody boggart?" He said lowly, though his voice was heard by all. "Take _this!_"

He spun on his heel and grabbed the real Alfred by the back of his neck, jerking him forward for a deep kiss. Alfred flailed slightly, but didn't resist. The boggart shifted, a keening wail breaking free of the shape-shifter as Arthur mumbled "Ridikulus" between kisses, the creature turning into a drunken Francis begging for sex.

Francis looked amused, chuckling with the rest of the room. "Ridikulus!" Francis said over the laughter- it turned into little Arthur with the albsolutely horrific hair when he tried growing it out.

"Ridikulus!" Romano added, the boggart twitching as it became Antonio sleeping, snores filling the room.

"Ridikulus!" Belarus even joined in, her voice edging on hysterical giggles. It became Ivan, resisting her and telling her no, and her sharp, broken laughter echoed hard in the large room- the boggart screamed again and exploded into smoke, no longer reforming into anything, even as Francis wandered close to the lunchbox and stared at it for a few moments.

There was silence as some comforted each other, the Asians gonig to Yao and telling him that they loved him- Toris smiling warily as Ivan hugged him carefully- Gilbert still clinging to Ludwig. Arthur finally pulled away from Alfred with a "I dare you to say anything" stare, Alfred looking blown away.

"W-Wow, Arty..."

Arthur sniffed. "Damn right. Now kiss me, git."

Alfred grinned, complying, sweeping Arthur into an embrace, the room calming into small laughs here an there, sobs slowing from the defeated countries, and silence began to stall in the room when they were all calmed. France broke the silence though.

"Amerique, your lunchbox is ruined."

"Awhhhh, man!"


End file.
